They Will Be Okay
by Hathor-Aroha
Summary: The trolls do not remove Anna's memories after she is accidentally hit in the head with Elsa's ice magic. They offer slightly different advice to the King and Queen but still Elsa locks herself away, while Anna knocks.


**They Will Be Okay**

The trolls heal Anna with their own ancient magic, but they do not touch her memories, even the latest ones, formed but minutes before. They know it is great folly to tamper with memories, as it can so easily go wrong. If a healer, inexperienced and young, erased the wrong memory, or failed to account for adjusted remembrances, grave consequences would transpire.

So Anna is healed, the ice in her head removed, although they can do nothing about the stripe of white in the little girl's hair. She sleeps on, tensed muscles relaxing, soft, as ice leaves her body. Anna is healed, her head free of ice, but the fragment of tonight's frivolity remains embedded in her memories.

The King and Queen impart a grateful "thank you"—Elsa is silent with fear—to Grandpabbie, but the troll stops them. He has a few more pieces of wisdom to offer, he tells the royals. Mother, father, and daughter approach, but not too close.

"It would be wise to be more careful," he counsels, "her magic will only grow in its strength. Beware, fear will be her greatest enemy should she allow it to consume her. It is your greatest duty to keep your daughters safe, but remember to still love them."

Visages bloom in the sky like smoke from a fire. Elsa stares, eyes round with terror, as she watches the shadows of people in the sky. She sees herself, a grown woman, let a snowflake loose high above the awed, approving crowd. Then it turns a horrible, burning red, little tendrils spitting down on Elsa-the shadowy, grown woman—as the crowd turns on her, leaping with outstretched hands. The girl cries out, clings to her father.

"We will protect her," the king insists, one arm around his stricken wife and the other around his daughter's shoulders.

 _She will remember what happened,_ Elsa frets, _she will know I'm dangerous. I can't hurt her. I don't want to hurt her again._

Maybe her father somehow read her mind—he discusses his plans with the queen as they ride their horses back to the castle. Anna slumbers on in the queen's arms, while Elsa sits in front of the king on his horse. She has not spoken a single word since they had left the castle. She still doesn't' speak as she listens to her father.

"We will reduce the staff, limit her contact with other people, and keep her powers hidden from everyone."

 _Including Anna,_ Elsa adds, in her own mind.

The king never said it aloud, but Elsa was old enough to understand what "everyone" meant. The word "everyone" included Anna, didn't it? That made perfect sense. She deserved to be kept apart from Anna. She'd nearly _died_ tonight, and it would have been all her fault. She would have had Anna's life on her conscience.

 _It's my fault. If we hadn't played tonight, it wouldn't have happened. I wish I could go back in time…_

"Papa?"

Her voice is so small, so fragile and tremulous, like a dew drop on a petal.

"Mm?" his deep voice hums from behind her, and she knows he is listening.

"Can…can I sleep in my own room?" she requests, still staring resolutely ahead, not wanting to look at Anna, "From tonight?"

"Why?"

"I…" her thought evaporates, Elsa left floundering in her effort to explain why. "I want my own room, so Anna can have her own as well."

She waits as the king considers this request in silence.

"I thought…it would be better," Elsa near whispers, "Grandpabbie said my powers will grow stronger."

Her curse was strong enough to hurt Anna, and indeed, it would have been fatal had the trolls not saved her younger sibling.

"If it makes you feel better," the king concedes, "we will see about getting you into the spare bedroom from now on. Any one in particular you want?"

 _The castle dungeons. I should be locked up. If I'm locked up, then I can't hurt Anna. Or anyone._

She doesn't say any of this aloud. Instead—

"I don't mind."

"Are you very sure?"

Elsa nods, very, _very_ sure. She knows Anna will know when she wakes up. She knows Anna will hate her, because she hurt her. Elsa deserved to be shunned by her own sister. She hurt her, nearly _killed_ her. She had heard of witches being executed for their sorcery. The land of Weselton was infamous for their suspicion toward magic. They were well known to execute anyone they suspected to be involved in witchcraft or possessed magic in some form. Usually this was by the sword or hanging—at least they didn't burn witches at the stake, as far as Elsa knew. Or maybe they did. Elsa truly doesn't know for sure.

She never tells her father the real reasons she wanted a room of her own. So she wouldn't see Anna when she wakes up and knows what has happened. So she wouldn't see Anna's fear when she wakes up. So she wouldn't see the horror on her face when she realises why she has her white streak in her hair. She just knows Anna wouldn't forgive her.

The parents find a new room for Elsa back at the castle—it is not quite as big as her old one, but it is still large enough for a spare bed, a few chairs, a desk, and other things to fit in there. The servants would soon bring in her own bed and move the spare one to another room. For now, Elsa huddles under the blankets, draws herself into as small a ball as she could, and sleeps fitfully. She dreams of isolation, swords, and the chant of a mob outside a small, barred window.

" _Witch! Witch! Witch! Witch…"_

And she dreams someone stops the sword from falling, and to her terror, she sees that hand turn into ice, her saviour's face hidden in shadow. But Elsa knows her saviour's face has also turned to ice. Even in her dreams, she can't help hurting people, and what if this dream comes to fruition? What if she _did_ turn someone into ice?

" _Witch! Witch! Witch!"_

Tears glitter on her eyelashes when dawn breaks.

* * *

Elsa opens her eyes, rubbing them with a hand, as a gentle knock sounds at her door. She presumes it is her mother, father, or one of the servants come to wake her up. Her heart skips a beat, starting into her throat, when she hears her little sister's voice.

"Elsa? Are you in there?"

The little girl grips her sheets, twisting it between her fingers, tugging it up to hide her mouth and nose. Two wide eyes are all one can see of her fearful face.

 _She knows. She will say she isn't my best friend anymore._

"Mama told me you were in here," Anna raises her volume, likely to make herself heard a little clearer, yet Elsa imagines it raised in accusation. "She told me you wanted to sleep alone. Are you not well?"

Elsa's lips mouths her answer, but nothing escapes her throat.

 _At least_ you _are okay._

"Elsa?" Anna calls again, "Are you asleep? Sorry for waking you if I did. I hope you're coming down for breakfast."

When Anna's footsteps fall away into silence, Elsa breathes, relaxing her shoulders. She hadn't realised she'd hunched them all the way up to her ears. Even relaxed, they still feel as though they are tense, muscles knotted and tight. She lowers the sheet, unclenching her fingers to find fine frost starching the material where she had gripped it. Her whole body shakes all over, perspiration dampening her palms and forehead.

 _She's safe as long as I'm not near her._

Another knock at the door—and now it's her mother, asking if she would like to come down for breakfast. Elsa refuses, says she'll be happy eating in her new bedroom. Ten minutes later, their servant, Kai, brings up Elsa's breakfast, and when he asks if there's anything else she needs, she shakes her head. But a second later, she stops him.

"Wait—can…" a deep breath, fragile as glass, "can you tell Anna I love her? And that I'm sorry I can't play with her again?"

Kai stares at her with obvious concern. For a moment he looks like he will question the little girl, but decides against it.

"I will, Elsa," he promises, "enjoy your breakfast."

Elsa picks at her food, moving it around on the plate, her appetite absent. She can't eat this morning, doesn't _want_ to eat. Her stomach is too nauseous for food anyway. The little girl places the tray on her new bedside table and forgets about it, wandering over to the windowsill, staring out past the garden to nothing.

And Anna's presence returns to the door with another lively knock.

"Elsa?" she calls in, "Kai told me you don't want to play with me. Why?"

 _You know why._

"Did I do something wrong?"

 _No!_

"Did I do something mean and I didn't know? You can tell me. I won't do it again."

 _You're never mean._

"Elsa!" Anna shouts, "Say something!"

But Elsa's voice has failed her—she can't bring herself to answer. Anna knows, she _has_ to know why. Or had the trolls really removed the memory of last night too?

" _Elsaaa,_ " Anna whines, "come out the door—it's like you've gone away!"

 _I wish I was. Then you'll be safe from me._

"Is it about last night? Mama told me the trolls made me better. I don't remember the trolls healing me, though I dreamed a troll kissed me on the forehead. It was a good dream."

 _What does she remember?_

"Oh! Gerda's telling me to move away from your door."

Indeed, Elsa could hear Gerda farther down the hall.

"Looks like you're moving in here. May I look?"

"Anna," Gerda has reached Anna, "I'm afraid you will have to talk to Elsa later, sweetie. We're busy moving her things into her new room."

"But why, Gerda?" Anna demands.

"She just wants to have her own room," Gerda explains, "and don't ask any more—all your parents have told me is that Elsa is moving out of your bedroom."

Anna protests, but not for long—Gerda promises that it won't be for long, and that she can talk to Elsa later. When Anna has left, Gerda knocks gently at Elsa's door.

"We're going to bring your things in, if it's okay."

Elsa nods, quickly wiping away her tears as she goes to unlock the door, opening it for Gerda and another servant. She plasters the biggest smile she can muster, but she has a feeling that Gerda can see right through her façade. The servant is clearly concerned when she spots the uneaten breakfast, but Elsa shrugs, says she wasn't hungry. Elsa knows the servant will probably tell her parents, but right now she doesn't care. As long as she is apart from Anna, her little sister will be safe. Safe from a monster like her.

 _I never want to hurt Anna again._

Anna doesn't return to Elsa's door until around mid-afternoon, when the servants have finished putting all of Elsa's things in her new bedroom. Elsa had asked them to leave the doll of herself in Anna's room, and bring with them the doll of Anna. When one did bring it in, Elsa clung on to the doll of Anna, hugging it to her chest protectively. At least it couldn't be afraid of her, it couldn't shun her.

And then, for the third time, the five knocks at her door.

"Elsa, I'm back," Anna announced outside, "I went to play by myself, but I got really bored really quick. It's always fun playing with you. I love when you use your snow!"

Elsa walks to the door, leans against its surface, closing her eyes.

"Anna…"

"Elsa! You do hear me!"

"I…we can't...play anymore," Elsa confesses, holding back tears, "it's too dangerous, after last night's accident."

A long silence. Elsa almost thinks Anna's gone away when she speaks up after at least a minute.

"Did the trolls tell you or mama and papa?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does."

"No, Anna."

"Yes, Anna."

"Anna, just go away!" Elsa almost shouts, panic overcoming her, squeezing her chest. She's starting to feel light-headed.

"Fine. I'm asking mama."

Anna stomps away from the door as loud as she can; Elsa knows she'd be sticking out her lower lip and puffing out pink cheeks as she marches off. She knows there'll be things thrown around her room later on if she doesn't get the answers she wants. And she knows Anna will never give up until she knows why her sister has been told her powers are so dangerous that they have to be apart.

* * *

She doesn't come out of her room the next day, or the next one after that. Elsa tries to block out Anna's pleas for her to come out and play. That it was only an accident. If it happened again, the trolls would still heal her, right? It is obvious Anna doesn't yet understand the full implications of what could have happened had the trolls been unable to heal her. They would have had to lower a too-small coffin into the ground. Nonetheless, Anna seems to work out that her strand of white hair is from Elsa's powers striking her. It doesn't seem to matter to Anna, but Elsa knows she'd never be able to bear looking at Anna again, not without seeing that white brand in her red locks every time.

 _I can't do it,_ Elsa frets, _I can't look at her again, because I'll see it._

The brand of a curse had scarred Anna's hair, a permanent reminder of how she had come so close to losing Anna. Elsa can never risk that again. The trolls were right. Her parents were right.

 _I will protect Anna by staying away._

Yet, Anna still persists in returning to Elsa's door. She offers reassurance after reassurance. Elsa is still her best friend. Elsa will never stop being the best sister anyone could have—and who else could say they had a sibling with snow magic? No-one in the world—or in Norway, at the very least. Elsa is still welcome to play at any time. All the grown-ups are too busy to play with her, or, if they do, it isn't the same as playing with Elsa. She's tried asking the pictures in the portrait room if they would play. Obviously, there was no answer from watercolours and pastels and canvas. Anna misses climbing their favourite tree together or playing on their swing. She misses feeding the ducklings out at the pond in the garden, and it's not as fun doing it on her own. She can't watch for shapes in the clouds anymore, because she misses Elsa looking at them with her. She misses pretending to joust with the armour stands at the bottom of a stairwell, because Elsa always jousted alongside her. The whole castle reminds her of Elsa's absence, Anna unable to do anything she loved before without thinking of her older sister.

"Can I help you?" Anna asks again, even though she's been told "no" before. "I wish I can help you."

One morning, Elsa answers her before she realises.

"You are helping already," Elsa says, "I like when you talk to me."

"Oh…good. I hope I'm not boring you too much."

"No, you're not boring me. I love it when you keep me company."

"When will you come out of your room?" Anna asks.

Elsa stares at her hands, eyes following the fine layer of frost creeping over the floor and door.

"Not yet," she says sadly, "soon."

"When is soon?"

"It's…soon. I just…have to get my curse—I mean powers under control."

A pause, and then, in a curiously small voice, "Did you call your magic a curse?"

Tears prickle the corners of Elsa's eyes. "It _is_ now, Anna."

"No!" Anna sounds vehement, and a thump on the other side of the door suggests she hit it with a fist. "Did the trolls tell you that? Mean trolls! I'm going to tell them off. They're _wrong_. Your powers are beautiful."

"No!" Now Elsa's voice is rising to match Anna's passion, 'No, you don't understand! They're only going to get _worse_. I might hurt someone again! I'm a _witch._ "

"If you're a witch," Anna says, "then you're the nicest witch I know."

 _She admits I'm a witch. I knew it._

"Witches get _killed,_ Anna."

"Well, _I'd_ make sure you're not. I'd tell everyone you are the nicest witch, with actual magic. And I'll tell everyone the trolls said your powers were a curse."

"Anna…the trolls didn't say that."

Another pause. "Oh. So who did? Because I'll smack the meanie who said that on their bum."

Elsa can't bring herself to say whom, and leaves the question hanging in the air.

"It wasn't mama and papa, was it? I can't believe they'd be that mean. They love you too, Elsa."

"It wasn't them either."

"A servant? Gerda? Kai?"

"No."

"Then _whom?_ I wanna know who told you that your powers are bad! Because that's mean. And I'm gonna tell them off. I'm gonna challenge them to a sword fight. Like what we did with the knights in the hallway."

"It was…" Elsa exhales, finally allows herself to admit it. "Me."

"Alright…what?" Anna sounds close to tears. "Have you forgotten the magic, Elsa?"

Elsa stares at her hands resting limply in her lap. She closes her eyes, leaning her head against the door.

"I might have."

A horrified gasp from Anna. "Then I'll help you remember!"

A small muffled thump on the floor outside Elsa's door—Anna must've sat down, ready to orate at length. And orate she did, telling stories of ice-skating, frost curling into the air like steam, all the snowmen they built, and all the mischief they could get into with Elsa's powers. There is so much love in Anna's voice it makes Elsa's heart ache to hear it. How could Anna still have so much love for Elsa's powers, even though they were dangerous? How could she recall all their fun moments together without the slightest hint of fear? Elsa couldn't hear resentment or bitterness in Anna's tones—all she heard was happiness and excitement, mixed with a strong dose of love.

A tingle on Elsa's neck, she opens her eyes and sees something immediately different about the room. It takes her a few moments to realise that the frost and ice had retreated as she had listened to Anna's recollections. At the same time, she felt a warmth inside herself, at once unfamiliar and familiar. It was both a stranger and a friend. With an idle flick of her wrist, Elsa sent a bloom of frost, curling and soft, into the air.

"I hope you love your magic again," Anna said at last, "I love your magic, and I know lots of people would too. I wish we could play again. I love you, Elsa, forever and ever."

 _Love._ That word sticks in her mind, and Elsa lingers on it as she plays with small bursts of magic from her palms. Her face feels different, and it takes a while before she realises she's _smiling._ And that warm, wonderful feeling? That was love. It was as though it had thawed her magic, dissipating the frost and ice that minutes ago had been crawling over her floor and the door.

"And we don't have to use your magic if you don't want to. We can build snowmen in winter—it always snows in winter. We have at least twenty knights to joust and a thousand pictures to talk to. The ducklings will still be fun, and we can still watch the clouds—"

 _Click._

Anna's words stopped mid-stream as Elsa pulled the door open, eyes bright and cheeks damp with tears. The younger sister gapes, shocked that her sister finally opened the door. She doesn't manage to get another word out before Elsa throws her arms around her, sobbing into her shoulder, her words nearly incomprehensible. Anna doesn't hesitate, folding her little arms around Elsa's waist, patting her on the back.

"Don't cry, Elsa," Anna says, "I love you. And I love your magic too."

Elsa's sobs quieten, and the older girl turns her head, resting her cheek on Anna's shoulder, eyes closed as she allows herself to just enjoy her sister's hug. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realises her powers are under control again, and Anna is okay. She's not hurt, she's not in pain, she's obviously just so completely happy to have her sister back.

"Love you too, Anna," Elsa whispers.

Elsa pulls back out of the embrace, and can't help but smile a little as Anna wipes away her tears with a finger.

"Are you going to stay in that room for good?" Anna queries.

"I think so," Elsa admits, before a mischievous little grin tugs at her mouth, "but that doesn't mean I won't jump on your bed to wake you up in the morning."

"No you won't!"

Elsa giggles as Anna tries and fails to look really cross. Her pout is too adorable to stay mad at.

"Yes I will."

"And we'll keep playing with your magic?" Anna looks so hopeful Elsa can't bring herself to say otherwise.

"As long as we're both careful," Elsa says, still unable to believe she has them under control—now she remembers what the troll had hinted, that love was the answer—"then yes, we'll keep playing with the magic."

* * *

Over the intervening years, Elsa and Anna grow up together, with maybe not as many midnight snow magic excursions. Elsa is careful, still fearing deep in her heart that she would hurt Anna again. Yet, Anna, even at about six or seven years of age, shows just how much she understands about Elsa wanting to be more careful with her powers. As Elsa grows older, and learns the ways of being a queen, she still worries about the kingdom's reaction once they do find out about her powers. But this worry is tempered by her knowledge that Anna will always defend her, no matter what. There is no chance that Anna would ever turn on her, let alone hate her. She will be there by her side, and so will Elsa be at Anna's side.

And then, in that fateful year when their parents die, Anna _and_ Elsa stand grieving together between the twin grey stones engraved with the late king and queen's names.

Together, as sisters, the way it should always have been and would always be.


End file.
